


wherefore the caged bird does sing

by bellezza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellezza/pseuds/bellezza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cage door's hinges are oiled, and they open without a sound.</p><p>Largely a (very short) character exploration of Sansa/Alayne, with hints of Dany/Sansa towards the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wherefore the caged bird does sing

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to include a few more scenes, but not only were they not coming to me properly in the second person context, but I started to worry that the second person narrative would get too redundant if I dragged it on.
> 
> So, presented bare-bones.

No one told you how heavy a crown would sit upon your brow.

 

 

 

 

As slowly and meticulously as Father's plots came together do they fall to pieces in a quick and sudden rush.

The signs are barely upon you before the armies come too, suns and roses and cloth-of-gold soaring in the sky overhead. A brisk winter wind catches one black scrap and unfurls it with a snap, spreading it wide so the red silk dragon stitched upon the canvas can soar, and far above them all three dark specks wheel in the sky, spouting gouts of flame. In the corner of your eye Father's fists clench, his knuckles showing white as bone.

You slip your eyes closed and look down on it all from the high reaches of heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

Once, as a little girl, you swore to make your people love you.

You do not know how to react when they kneel at your feet, holding out their swords as an offering along with their lives. _I was not made for this_ , you think, but you know there is no turning back. There never was. From the moment you left Winterfell you were doomed to walk this course, naive, unknowing thing you were. Now they expect things from you that you were never trained to give.

Protection.

Direction.

Leadership.

Oh, how you miss the certainty of youth, when being a pretty little talking bird was enough. The septas never dreamed this would be what fate had in store for you. No one did. Now you are alone with your own judgment and a duty too big for your shoulders to bear.

Still.

Still, you have learned. Your teachers have been the greatest and the worst, the noblest and most depraved. You have watched men die and heard the words of kings; from their example it is not so hard to make yourself a queen.

 

 

 

 

You could write great tomes on what you know of the darkness in men's hearts, and still never run out of words. It has made a tender creature of you, small and fragile, yet encased within a wall of hardest ice. The maesters say that in the Land of Always Winter, that hateful place beyond the Wall, life cannot take root because the very ground is frozen. You think you might be like that, but deep, deep beneath the icy earth there are your bones, and the marrow inside them is seeded with hope that may yet bloom.

Winter is coming, but after that, spring, too.

 

 

 

 

You are sixteen years, nine months, and seventeen days when you meet her. You remember it precisely. Remember it down to the exact texture of the air on your tongue, and when you close your eyes you can still hear the bells that chime in her wake. Each step light as any child's but with the measured weight of a goddess borne to earth. Her boots click-click upon the flagstone floor. She comes before you a conquering queen, and you oblige, stepping down from your simple wooden throne to make obeisance at her feet.

Her touch beneath your chin is gentle as she lifts your gaze to meet hers. How soft her skin; how clear her eyes.

You remember every exact detail of this moment for the rest of your life, because this is when you feel your cage open. This is when you are free.


End file.
